


Not Missing (You)

by Lucifuge5



Category: Fight Club (1999)
Genre: M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 20:38:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5641111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifuge5/pseuds/Lucifuge5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Some days I feel like I'm dying forever.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Missing (You)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sperrywink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sperrywink/gifts).



I open my eyes and sit up at once. The house is eerily quiet, all the usual creaking from the walls as the house settles and resettles itself aren't there. Even the far off grind of industry from some of the factories in this area have faded away. There's a sudden crash and a series of rather ingenious cursing as Tyler picks up whatever it is he's just destroyed in the kitchen.

Rolling off my mattress is fairly easy. The hard part is when I try to stand up. My back muscles seize up in a harmony of pain. My mind drifts to the night before: me and Tyler duking it out in the basement. Since I'm the leaner of the two, I tried to snag Tyler in some kind of WWF hold. He twisted faster than I'd expected and had landed a couple of pretty nasty blows on my back.

(Later on, he'd dragged me to bed, snatching a bottle of cooking oil from the kitchen as we made our way to the bedroom. I remember his hands sliding all over my skin: warmth and desire and even tenderness. And then the darkness claimed me).

"Come on down, Sport. I know you're faking being asleep," Tyler yells from below snapping my attention to the here and now.

I finally get up, my joints popping like my body is settling. It's not until after taking a leak and brushing my teeth (huh, I think my back molar's loose again) that I make my way down the rotten stairs.

"One of these days, I'm going to break my neck," I say when I reach the landing.

"What? And leave me all here by my lonesome?" Tyler says, appearing in front of me with a cup of coffee. He pats my butt and heads back to the kitchen.

I take the cup and inhale the rich and strong aroma ("You like your coffee more bitter than a 90-year old virgin," Tyler said once). I make my way to join him, sitting down on one of the kitchen stools, gazing at Tyler as he mixes something on a cast iron pan. "Some days I feel like I'm dying forever," I mumble before I take my first sip.

"I bet you dying's not all that's crack up to be." Tyler comments, taking off his lab googles. "Everyone's trying to die because they want to run away from all the shit's they've bought since they were little. Death's boring." His gaze pins me to my seat, I feel naked and fragile as I drink my coffee and try to keep calm.

"Death's not for you or for me."

**Author's Note:**

> Sperrywink gave me the following prompt: Tyler Durden: The grass is always greener on the other side
> 
> and I was all for it. Written for Day 4 of the Snowflake Challenge.


End file.
